


The Last Kiss

by suitesamba



Series: Severus Sighs Anti-Valentine's Day Fest 2013 [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/pseuds/suitesamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b>  Severus didn’t realize Harry would have to kiss him, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 Anti-Valentine's Day fest on the Severus Sighs Community on IJ for Prompt 10: As part of a dare, ______ agrees to make a pass at every professor at Hogwarts. She/He leaves Snape until last.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. The characters and their worlds belong to their original writers and no copyright infringement or offense is intended. No money was made from this story.
> 
> Beta'd by Abrae and Roozetter

It was Ron’s nineteenth birthday, not Harry’s, so why was Harry the one being given the dare today?

“Every one? Even Hagrid? I can’t make a pass at Hagrid!”

“Even Hagrid,” Seamus said. “ _Especially_ Hagrid.”

“I’d think you’d be more upset about Trelawney,” Ron said. “At least you _like_ Hagrid.”

“Not like _that_ ,” protested Harry. “He’s…well, he’s just so…so….”

“Big? Giant? Uncouth? Hung?” Malfoy, sitting at one of the study tables with Pansy and Nott, closed his Transfiguration textbook and stopped pretending to study.

“Whose idea was it to put all of us in the same quarters, anyway?” Harry muttered.

“Yours, I thought,” Dean said. “End of house rivalries, start of new friendships, putting all the old animosity behind us….”

“Alright. Fine.” Harry grinned. “What, exactly, can be considered a pass?” he asked. “Can I just ask them out?”

Ron laughed. “You can if you want, but you have to touch them. Somewhere.”

“Somewhere?” Malfoy snorted. “What, like on the hand?”

“You have to kiss them, or try to, anyway. Or squeeze their bum, or caress their knee. Or blow in their ear.”

“I’m going to get tossed out of Hogwarts,” moaned Harry. 

“You? The Boy Who Lived Again? I don’t think so.” For not being part of the conversation, Malfoy was doing a lot of talking.

“Start easy,” suggested Neville. “Professor Martinez is easy on the eyes.”

The new Muggle Studies professor was young, pretty and female. Well, two out of three wasn’t bad, thought Harry.

“How long do I have?” asked Harry. 

“Two weeks,” Seamus said. “And that’s generous. I only had a week – and I had to kiss every single seventh year.”

Harry grinned. “Alright, then. I’ll do it.”

“You do realize that Snape’s still a professor, don’t you?” drawled Malfoy as the group began to disband.

Harry whirled on him. “He’s the Headmaster. The deal is to make a pass at all the professors.”

“Well, technically he’s right, Harry,” said Neville. He shrugged. “He teaches N.E.W.T. level potions.”

“I know he teaches N.E.W.T. level potions!” retorted Harry, looking panicked now. “He’s my professor….oh.”

They laughed and Ron slapped him on the shoulders.

“Have fun with that one, mate. Can’t wait to see the Pensieve memory!”

Harry dropped his head into his hands and moaned.

~*~

Filius Flitwick left the Headmaster’s office, closing the door behind him.

In the last ten days, every single one of his professors had been through that door to report that Harry Potter had either kissed them, tried to kiss them, or touched them “intimately.”

This wasn’t the first of the eighth year dares, and the faculty had already been on the alert for something like this. That it was Harry Potter who had been given this particular challenge was surprising. It was something that better suited one of the more outgoing, promiscuous students like Finnigan. Potter had been studious and focused all year, staying out of trouble, turning in exemplary work. He seemed to be intent on excelling academically and earning the N.E.W.T.s required for the Auror Academy. 

Predictably, he’d hit up Martinez first. He’d started up a conversation about his Muggle relatives. This had upset him greatly, she reported, and he had had tears in his eyes. She offered him a handkerchief and he had accepted it, then surprised the socks off of her by leaning in and kissing her. She had attributed the whole thing to emotions, but Severus knew better. He also knew that she was secretly thrilled to have been kissed by the Boy Who Lived.

He’d gone through six more professors in two days – Vector, Sinistra, Trelawney, Hooch, Hagrid and Bill Weasley, who had consented to fill in as the Defense professor this year—before the Heads of House, the only professors left on the list, sat down at their weekly meeting and decided to make things a bit more difficult for him.

Minerva had had tears of mirth in her eyes when she reported back to him.

“I don’t know where he came from, but suddenly he was there beside me, one hand around my waist and nuzzling my neck, telling me I smelled so good, like mint and clover or some nonsense like that. Mint and clover, Severus!” 

“Charming,” said Severus, shaking his head.

Slughorn was next. “He came with an entire pound of crystallized pineapple, Severus. And a picture of his mum. I _had_ to let him in!”

He knew Sprout was a lost cause. Potter corned her in the greenhouse that same day, claiming that he had knocked over Neville’s Mimbulus Mimbletonia plant and needing assistance repotting it. It had seemed like such an innocent request, she said, and she hadn’t seen him coming when he leaned over the plant and planted one right on her lips.

Filius was the most clever of the lot. No, strike that. He was the only one of the lot who probably didn’t want Potter to kiss or manhandle him. He was also quite gifted with a wand. Potter had actually resorted to using his Invisibility cloak after Filius had evaded him time and again. He’d crept up on him while the professor was sitting with Thomas and Finnigan, explaining the wand movement of a new charm, and dropped his cloak. Seamus had screamed and pointed, Filius had whipped around and Harry had kissed him right on his mouth. Harry, it seemed, had been on his knees.

Severus chuckled. Potter would be in detention until the end of May the way things looked, and he hadn’t even dished out his own punishment yet.

He strung Potter along for several days. The boy had to know he hadn’t escaped the wrath of the Headmaster, and he began to avoid Snape like a blast-ended skrewt. They’d had an interesting year before this nonsense, really. Potter had stayed out of his hair as he recovered in St. Mungo’s. When, by early August, it was apparent that Severus would be well enough to return to Hogwarts, and the Ministry had cleared his name and affirmed his position as Headmaster, Potter had requested a private meeting with him. They had met at Grimmauld Place, where Potter had been living while he helped with the restoration and rebuilding at Hogwarts. They’d covered quite a bit over dinner and dessert. Potter had an agenda. Three things – to return his memories, apologize for calling him a coward, and thank him for his years of protection. The apology had felt genuine and the thanks heartfelt, but he seemed most reluctant to give up the memories. He held them tightly in his hand as he spoke, and had ultimately pressed the little vial into Severus’ hands and pulled his own hand away quickly.

Severus accepted the memories. After all, they were his, and he’d missed them.

Their interactions at school were cordial. They had occasion to speak frequently outside of Potions class, as the Ministry was forever wanting something of the boy, and was forced to channel all their requests through Severus as Harry was still officially a student. At first he had passed all of them on to Harry, calling him into the office on innumerable occasions and reading him one ludicrous request after another. At some point, he’d offered him tea and they’d continued the practice of discussing the requests over Earl Grey and biscuits. As the Christmas holidays approached, Harry, sleep-deprived from Granger’s exam study schedule, had suggested that Severus act on his behalf and keep him updated on his commitments.

Severus frowned now, thinking of their most recent request to test Harry’s _Expelliaramus_ spell to see if it was innately more powerful than it ought to be. And the request not more than a week ago to photograph Harry in the graveyard in Little Hangleton…. Idiots, all of them.

His thoughts were interrupted, then, by a knock on his office door. 

“Enter,” he called out. Despite having Potter on his mind already, he was surprised to see the young man at his door.

“Ah. You saved me the trouble of calling you to my office,” said Severus, pretending to sort through some paperwork on his desk. He glanced up a full minute later. Potter was standing on the other side of his desk, looking somewhat nervous.

“Sit.”

He heard the chair scrape against the floor. Potter cleared his throat.

“Well?”

“Has…has Professor Flitwick been to see you?”

“Professor Flitwick has been to see me numerous times, Mr. Potter,” Snape replied. He finally looked up, giving Harry his full attention. “Are you here to explain why you have been assaulting my staff?”

“Assaulting?”

Snape folded his hands on his desk and leaned forward. “Kissing. Squeezing. Blowing. _Nuzzling_ , Mr. Potter!” His voice rose steadily and Harry leaned back and away from him.

“Well, that’s not exactly _assaulting_ ….”

“How many detentions have you already earned, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked.

“I don’t know….”

“How many?” Snape repeated.

“Twenty-two,” muttered Harry.

“Twenty-six,” corrected Severus. “Let’s see…” He reached for a parchment on his desk and unrolled it, scanning it quickly. “It appears that you are free on Tuesday evenings. You will be assisting Professor Trelawney with marking essays. Please be in her classroom by six-thirty, immediately following dinner, on the next four Tuesdays.”

Harry looked ill. “Trelawney? Come on, Headmaster….”

“ _Professor_ Trelawney, Mr. Potter. And I might add that her inner eye has revealed that you are fated to be together, so do try to save any more amorous activities until after you pass your N.E.W.T.s and leave Hogwarts.”

He stood, walked around the desk, and opened his office door. “Good day, Mr. Potter.”

Harry stood, shaking his head. “That’s _all_? You’re not going to yell at me?”

“You are the least of my problems, Mr. Potter,” Severus said, shaking his head, a bit too indulgently. He turned his head to look out the door toward the stairs.

That was his mistake. A mere heartbeat later the door was closed, his back was against it, and he had an armful of Harry Potter.

An armful of Harry Potter molding his body against his, thrusting a leg between his thighs, and fastening his lips on his mouth. Potter’s hands were in his hair. One of them slipped down to his shoulder.

Those lips. That tongue. Those rock-hard, Quidditch-toned thighs. The raspy scrape of stubble on his chin.

“I saved the best for last,” whispered Potter.

He opened his mouth—to protest, surely—and Potter’s tongue dove in. 

He allowed it for as long as it took him to realize that his cock was beginning to take interest, then summoned his strength and pushed Potter away. The boy stumbled backward, surprised and unsteady. 

He made a show of wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and shaking it as if to rid himself of the unwelcome taste.

“Bonus points, Mr. Potter?” he spat.

“Yeah, something like that,” Potter muttered.

“Out!”

Potter looked at him. His expression was wistful, disappointed. His gaze swept quickly down over Snape’s body, pausing where Snape knew his erection could absolutely _not_ be seen through his robes.

“Mr. Potter. Leave. Now.”

He opened the door and Harry left, eyes downcast.

Snape slammed the door behind him.

That… _that_ was not the kiss of a student completing an odious dare.

Harry Potter had _wanted_ to kiss him. 

Harry Potter _wanted_ him. _Him!_

Damn it!

He could taste him still, smell him. _Feel_ him. 

But he could not _have_ him. 

Fate was a cruel bitch, always dangling things in front of him that he _could not have_.

But he would not fall into that trap again. 

He went back to his desk and sank into his chair, head dropping into his hands.

Harry Potter was a student. True, a student who would turn nineteen soon. But a student nonetheless. 

He was Lily’s child. _Lily’s._

He was the most famous person in the Wizarding World. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. All eyes were on him. _All_ of them. Harry Potter might desire him, but _no one_ in the Wizarding world would approve.

He was the Headmaster of Hogwarts. It was a respected position, one he enjoyed, one at which he excelled. Headmasters tended to keep their jobs as long as they wanted them provided they did not get caught up in scandal. This job was his security. His future.

But…those lips. That smell. Those eyes.

_Those eyes._

~*!

He kicked the wall.

He’d ruined it. Ruined any chance he might have had later, when he was out of Hogwarts and not a student and not such an _idiot_. It had been _good_. Snape had been the only one of all of the professors that he had wanted to kiss longer. The only one that had kissed him back. It was only an instant, but he had felt it. 

Merlin, how he had _felt_ it.

“You did it! You kissed Snape?” Ron poked his head out of their common room.

“Cough it up, Potter.” Seamus was at his shoulder now, walking with him. “Give us the memory.”

Harry shook his head.

“No. I’m forfeiting. Couldn’t do it.”

He pushed past them, gave a curt nod to Malfoy who was sitting at his usual place at the study table, and trudged back to his room.

“He’s lying,” said Malfoy when they had all heard Harry’s door shut behind him.

But of course, coming from Draco Malfoy’s mouth, no one believed him.  
 _Fin_


End file.
